Show Me What You've Got
by TaarnaT
Summary: After Emma sees Hook in a pair of pants that leave little to the imagination, she can't resist the urge to see if he lives up to her fantasies.


inspired by the many tumblr gifs that fuel all of our perverted fantasies of white pants and bjs ;)

Disclaimer: alas, I don't own Once Upon a Time, or any of the characters.

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Emma didn't know if curiosity actually killed the cat but she was sure that it was nearly killing the savior.

It had been four days since she'd seen Hook climbing out of the water and onto his ship while driving by the docks on patrol. The fact that he was shirtless was the first thing she'd noticed, and she couldn't help but appreciate the lean muscles of his broad shoulders and chest, or the dusting of dark hair that unconsciously led her eyes lower. The scars and tattoos that littered his skin did nothing to take away from his rugged attractiveness and she'd expected him to be in good shape, but _good lord_, she was definitely not disappointed. It was only after a moment that she realized he was wearing an old pair of white cotton pants instead of his usual leather. Soaked with seawater from his swim, they clung to his frame like a second skin, hanging dangerously low on his hips, and revealing two indisputable truths:

Captain Hook did not wear underwear.

And Captain Hook was _packing_.

Even in his unaroused state, the pants left little to the imagination, but that hadn't stopped her from imagining it, in vivid detail... on a nightly basis. (Not that she hadn't imagined it before, but _damn_.) And now, as she sat at the bar at the Rabbit Hole and polished off her second Jameson's on the rocks before ordering a third, she found herself positively staring at his crotch as he caroused with Robin and his gang, annoyingly unaware of her problem.

"Jeez, Emma, just get it over with," Ruby laughed beside her, pulling her from her daze.

"Huh? What? Get what over with?" She stammered. Not her best response, she had to admit.

"You've been eye-fucking Hook since he walked in here. And while the whole dark jeans/grey Henley/biker jacket thing is working for him... I don't think you can blame the staring on his wardrobe change so don't even try."

Emma's eyes went to him again, then back to Ruby with a groan as she picked at nonexistent lint on her sweater. "I ... may have seen him swimming the other day and from what I saw I got the distinct impression that his 'sword' would actually live up to the hype. And given his innuendo problem, that's saying something." She sighed dramatically.

Ruby giggled, "Been thinking about it a lot have we?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "It's been a while, alright?"

Both ladies then turned to check out the bulge in his jeans, their stares catching the pirate's eye. He winked, raising a brow and smirking at Emma in a way that really wasn't helping.

"So... you're saying he's *cough* big, he's hot, he's clearly horny and he's head over heels in love with you... What's holding you back? To be honest, I'd expected you two to get together weeks ago."

Twenty minutes later, as she stared at her empty glass, Emma still couldn't come up with a good excuse as to why she was still hesitating to make a move. She was tired of being "friends," tired of dancing around this attraction they had to each other, tired of him being a gentleman and giving her space, and she'd finally had enough liquid courage to do something about it.

Damn it all, she was going to find out if her fantasies were accurate.

Standing up, she nodded to Ruby and straightened out her clothes before stalking across the bar like a predator. Grabbing him roughly by his bicep (which she did _not_ notice was enticingly firm under his jacket) she wordlessly dragged him through the bar and out the back exit into an alley, ignoring the laughter and wolf-whistles from his "mates" as they left. While not well-lit, the small sconce by the door provided more than enough light to accomplish her task. Pushing him against the wall, she began to undo his jeans, ripping the button open and yanking down the zipper before she could second-guess her actions.

"Emma, love, what are you doing?" He choked out in a confused and desperately broken voice as she shoved the denim down his hips and sank her hands into his pants to pull him free.

"Just shut up," she growled as she finally _finally_ got her hands on him and drew him out to have a proper look. She opened her mouth to continue chastising him when her words died on her tongue. Gloriously free of any confines and rapidly responding to her hands, which had begun to idly stroke him, his cock jutted out from his body- hard, proud, and deliciously, impressively huge. "Fuck." She breathed. "Jesus Christ, are you fucking kidding me?"

He was easily the biggest she'd ever seen (outside of porn, at least) and she couldn't stop staring. Like the rest of him, his cock was fucking gorgeous. Of course it was. And maybe it was the four days worth of frustration, or the whiskey, or the unspoken affection that was undeniably between them...but she suddenly had an overwhelming urge to get it in her mouth (among other places.)

"Darling," he groaned, hips stuttering into her hands, "as much as I'm not complaining, this isn't quite how I pictured this." His voice was rough with arousal, his head dropped forward as he watched her hands stroke him with hooded eyes.

Smiling smugly, she placed a finger under his chin and tipped his gaze up to meet hers, licking her lips as she watched his pupils dilate. She flicked her eyes back down before locking her stare with his again. "Try to keep quiet, ok? We don't need an audience."

Before he could fire back a smart-ass retort, she was dropping to her knees, giving into the humming desire in her veins. Their first time making love (which she now admitted to herself was definitely going to happen) would not be in a dirty alley, but she wanted this, wanted to taste him, to feel him in her mouth, to make him come undone. His breath caught audibly as he realized her intention. "Emma," he croaked, his words failing as she licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, eyes meeting his in a challenging stare as she pressed a kiss to the head and flicked her tongue out to swirl around the smooth flesh. "Shhhh" she whispered, shooting him her most devilish grin before wrapping her lips around the tip and slipping him into her hot, wet mouth. He gasped slightly, a long moan escaping his lips as his head tipped back with a "thunk" against the cold brick wall, his hand tangling in her golden hair.

"Ooooh gods..."

She began to work him deeper, tongue lips and throat combining to tease his hard length as he slipped in and out of her mouth, enjoying the way quiet, nearly incoherent moans tumbled forth from him with her movements, urging her on.

"Ooooh, fuck... I thought... I mean, I'd dreamed of this, but... Bloody hell, Swan, you don't know... your mouth...so good"

Her jaw ached slightly, his size requiring her to open wider than normal to accommodate his massive cock, but he was hot and hard and she could taste the sweetness of his precum as she ran her tongue over the tip. She popped the button, drew down the zipper, and reached a hand into her pants, fingers sliding against her slick folds, a growl escaping his lips as he watched her fuck herself while she sucked his cock. She felt his stilted movements as he held himself back, hips twitching with restraint.

Pulling off briefly, she panted, "You can fuck my face, you know. Making you feel good is kind of the whole point." With that, she took him back in her mouth, pulling his hips back and forth with her free hand to encourage him as he began to thrust into her mouth, chasing his pleasure. She struggled to take all of him in and opened her throat, his size again nearly too much, then moaned low around him as her arousal built, sending thrilling vibrations along his shaft.

His hand tightened in her hair, his hips driving forward as he spoke her name like a prayer. "Gods, Emma, I'm going to... Fuck, lass, I'm so close..." She grabbed his hips, pulling him deeper yet and giving him unspoken permission to come in her mouth. With a guttural cry, he stilled, pouring himself down her throat as she drank him deep, sucking every last salty-sweet drop from him. He collapsed against the wall as she cleaned him off, laving her tongue over his cock and drawing out his orgasm as he came down.

Standing up, she smiled shyly before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He responded swiftly, pulling her closer with a grunt, hand tangling behind her head as he changed the kiss from chaste to passionate, tongue sliding against her lips as she opened for him, allowing him to deepen the kiss and taste himself as he pressed her tight against him. She moaned as they angled their heads, suddenly making out like horny teenagers with his pants still hanging off his hips and her hand running through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He grabbed her other hand, pulling it from between her thighs, and brought it to his lips, popping her still wet fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean.

"Emma," he whispered, his voice rough and wrecked, a hint of fear mingling with the awe, lust, and confusion she heard. "What exactly are you- are we- doing?"

"This is me letting you know that I'm ready for the fun to begin," she murmured, leaning forward to brush their noses, her mind instantly going back to their kiss in Neverland. "I can't stop thinking about you. It's crazy how much I want this. So, I think it's time we both stop pretending we're just friends, ok?"

"Aye," he kissed her again, nipping at her lower lip as his hand teased at the waistband of her jeans. "I don't make a habit of _ravishing_ my friends," he nosed at her ear, kissing down her neck as he spoke, "and I have every intention of making love to you tonight. Repeatedly. On every possible surface in my cabin. And of holding close you as the sun rises tomorrow. Would you be amenable to such things, my lady?"

She rolled her eyes at how he managed to be both a pirate and a gentleman in the span of a minute.

"I think I could be persuaded."

She laced her hand with his and gave him a small smile, not yet ready for grand promises but hopeful in a way she hadn't felt since Henry showed up on her doorstep. Her smile turned to a yelp, then a very un-Emma-like giggle (that she would deny in the morning) as he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, carrying her back to the docks as she thanked the gods above for irish whiskey and those white pants.


End file.
